Mystery of the Whisper
by quadi9
Summary: Severus has a mental break down and an addiction! Harry tries to step in and help ... but would he only be making matters worse? Talk is cheap. Read my damn story! [slash]
1. Prologue: Cruelty

Mystery of the Whisper:  
  
by: Marilyn, My Bitterness  
  
Summary: We're all so used to the 'Snape-Saves-Harry' drabble, but what happens when the tables are turned?   
  
Rated: R for language, self-harm, angst, slash and all that other goodstuff.  
  
Disclaimer: I own everything and everyone. I really do. Except the lyrics, which belong to the Cruxshadows. And the characters, which belong to J.K.R. But everything else... I own.  
  
Author's Note: This is my first fiction in a while, so please forgive my rusty...ness. If you find a down-right stupid error in my writing, do be a doll and let me know. All mistakes are of my own stupidty. Flames will be used to light my candles and incense.  
  
Prolouge: Cruelty  
  
No hand to scribe, the sinking sickness I have seen  
  
No face to judge until you've been the monster I have been  
  
To hunger is noble, where beauty is silent sleep   
  
My hunger is noble, but my pain is driven deep.   
  
Yet another day gone, so much like the sun behind the Dark Forest. He could see the trees swaying in the wind, a storm sure to follow. Reddish-orange hue's outlined the darkened trees as if some great fire had been lit in the heavens, and the trees were merely laying in wait. He then noticed the ever darkening stretch of sky rolling in, coming to put out the fire. Coming to blot out the sun, the light. The sky was becoming ever so much darker; ever so much like his soul... He sighed. Metaphors were irrelevant now, with everything seeming a paradox in itself. Little cherub faces running around, all aglow and smiling with innocence. Little cherub faces, sneaking off to the darkest corners of the castle doing whatever, or whoever, their little hearts desired. Evil potions master, lurking about the dungeons, pissing and moaning about the waking world. Evil potions master, wishing so much that the Dark would leave him ... or that the Light would leave everyone else so that he not feel so cheap, so used, so ... dirty.   
  
It was true, he was indeed once a bad guy. Most would retort that he still is, and he really did nothing to change their minds. He lived up to his reputation as 'the Bat,' what with his flowing robes and his swooping upon innocent children who connive and snicker amongst themselves. He lived down in the dungeons, where daylight surely did not reach; where darkness sipped tea with the Boogie Man, and chatted nonsense with Death. That was the life of the Potions Master, the Bat. Or so everyone assumed.  
  
Though yes, it was dark and quite filled with the scents of decay and rosemary, of opium and honeysuckle, did that really make one such a bad person? Of course not. It was the person's life, their present, their future ... and their past. And Severus Snape did have one Hell of a past. One that everyone knew, causing an air of distrust and hostility to surround him where ever he went. Of course there were those select few who trusted him; Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall... some other assorted Hogwarts professors. But for every one trusting human being, there were thousands of others who thought that he should be locked up in Azkaban, given to the Dementors and put out of mind forever. He knew, oh did he know, that nothing could be done to change these people's mind. He could have gotten down on bended knee in front of Harry-Bane-of-his-Existance-Potter and kissed the very floor that he walked on, and people would still go on thinking nothing but the worst of him. So what was the point in acting as if anyone really cared about him? Why not act like a royal asshole, and then at least deserve the cruelty he received from his fellow humans? It all made perfect sense, really.  
  
So he sighed, once more, for his life devoid of any true happiness. Looking back at the sky, he saw that the darkness had officially conquered the Sun's vibrant light show. He shook his head and looked around. How long had he been standing still in this corridor, gazing out at the above heavens, his thoughts lost in something not entirely new to him? Had anyone seen him? Looking around, he concluded that he had not been spotted and heaved a sigh of relief. 'What would the neighbors think?' he thought sardonically, and allowed himself a bitter smile. His classic smirk. He knew people thought he was smirking at the supposed display of human stupidity all around him, and sometimes he was. But for the most part, he upturned the corners of his mouth at the dry humor of his passing thoughts, usually poking fun at himself. He had to allow himself some semblance of normalcy, no matter how abnormal it may have seemed to anyone else. So he continued to smirk to himself, while making his way down the hall with a turn to the right and deep into his much beloved cells of darkness and magikal fumes.   
  
Cruelty and consequence-cannot eliminate this relevance   
  
Your selfishness, your hatefulness cannot take away my immanence   
  
Cruelty and consequence-cannot eliminate this relevance   
  
Your selfishness, your hatefulness cannot take away my innocence from me   
  
Coming upon the Potions Master in the corridor, Harry quickly (and quietly) decided that he had better find another way to the Gryffindor commons, unless he felt like loosing a few points for his house and earning a detention or two. He made a quick turn 'round, not realizing that the stairways were in the midst of changing themselves for, it seemed like, the millionth time that day. It was quite queer how the staircases worked, and Harry was soon to take note of it. Somedays they moved hundreds of times, confusing the Hell out of teacher and student alike. Then there were some days that the staircases stayed in place, much to the pleasure of everyone else involved. This was not one of those days.  
  
Harry assumed the noise of the stairs would most certainly send the Bat of a professor heading his way in a flurry of quick witted insults and flowing ebony robes, but such was not the case. Peeking over his shoulder, he saw what seemed to be the Potions Master deep in thought. What's more, he saw what seemed to be the Potions Master without a look of utter contempt on his face. Not only the lack of contempt was noticed, but the presence of ... dare it be ... understanding? Something along those lines. But an understanding for what...? As Harry continued to watch he saw the signs of despair, envy, acceptance dance upon the man's features, leaving Harry utterly confused and confounded.   
  
With a tight locking sound, Harry noticed that the staircases were done moving for the time being, thus signaling that Harry should hurry on to his commons lest Snape break from his contemplative state and spot him. Hurrying down the stairs, his thoughts were not on anything else but the man he was leaving behind.  
  
So what did everyone think? Like it, hate it? Whichever it be, be a good little mortal and review. It would be ever so lovely, and the favour shall most greatly be returned ::seductive wink:: The second chapter is soon to be underway, whether you want it or not....   
  
Cheers,  
  
- sarah 


	2. Chapter One: Leave Me Alone

I got four reviews! ::does the four review dance:: Alright, alright. So it's not that many... but it's four more than I had before, and that is something to be proud of. So... on that note, I suppose I'll respond to the reviews I found interesting or answer some questions (if a question is ever .. posed.)   
  
Mookins - 'normalcy' is infact a word. It's in Websters. Just because Harding coined it doesn't lessen the fact that it is, indeed, a word.   
  
Chapter One: Leave Me Alone  
  
Leave me alone- I'm a freak  
  
leave me alone- make it easy for yourself  
  
everywhere I go they all stare  
  
I don't understand why they care  
  
"This is madness." Ron stated gruffly, stretching in his chair and fighting courageously to keep his eyes open. "Potions on a Monday? That's cruel and unusual punishment, that is." Folding his arms on top of his stack of books, he buried his head into his arms and tried to catch a few more winks before the Bat came to grace them all with his presence. Hermione gave Ron a disapproving look, flipping through her Potions book to the specified page on the board.   
  
"Really Ron, it's not that bad. If you'd go to bed at a decent hour instead of staying up all night chatting away-"  
  
"Who says I'm up all night 'chatting away'?" Ron mumbled indignantly, raising his head a bit to give Hermione 'the Look'. Hermione rolled her eyes, continuing to flip through her book. Upon finding the correct page, she sighed and looked up. Still no sign of the Potions Master. Looking to her left, she found Harry staring into nothingness, chin on hand and glasses askew.   
  
"Don't tell me you're up all night as well? Are you both really that tired?!" she said with an exasperated sigh. Muttering something akin to 'Men', she picked up another book out of her bag and began to read, paying no mind to the dreadful "men folk" around her. Ron, his semi-sleep interrupted by Hermione's mother hen nit-picking, raised his head and saw that Harry hadn't seemed to have moved since the three arrived in class that morning. Looking around, 'Where is the old coot anyway?' he sighed and poked Harry in the ribs.  
  
"Hey mate, what's on your mind? I know you couldn't possibly be tired. You slept like a log last night ... unless..." Ron got uncomfortable, thinking perhaps Harry had yet another nightmare that he was keeping from the other two. Harry looked over his right shoulder to find Hermione reading, and Ron looking at him intently. He blinked, as if only seeing them for the first time. "I'm sorry ... what did--?" he was cut off by loud slamming of a door and a flurry of black stalking across the room. Ahh, now there was the Potions Master the children of Hogwarts loved so dearly.  
  
"Turn your books to page five hundred and twenty nine." he muttered, his voice low enough to chill even the most rambunctious students. "Today, you will be making the 'Imago Iucundus'. Roughly translated into 'pleasant image', when combined with the proper sleeping potion, it causes the drinker to experience pleasant dreams." Severus continued his explination as he began writing different ingredients and instructions on the board. "It is usually only taken with that particular sleeping potion, which we will be making soon enough. When taken alone, it produces an elated feeling in the drinker and can become habit forming." Placing down the chalk, he turned to look at his class, hoping that atleast someone other than Granger took the time to read their books since the last class, and that his words were merely a refresher. Noting the dull and blank looks on their faces, he surmised that no one had   
  
infact read and that this was all new news to them. He sighed. "Do try your hardest at not turning this into a poisonous substance, as a   
  
few vials will be sent up the Hospital Ward. Now begin." With a quick look at Longbottom, Severus prayed to every god he didn't believe in that he would still have a classroom by the end of the period.   
  
Ron, raising an eyebrow to the nealry unreadable scrawl on the board, turned to his two friends in a way that said "And yet, another day begins. G.R.E.A.T.' Hermione, picking up on Ron's frustration, huffed. "Ron, if you had read the book like you were supposed to, this wouldn't be all new to you!" And with that, she began pulling out the ingredients necessasary. Ron looked at her as if   
  
she had sprouted horns, and then turned to look up at Harry. Harry was, once again, not paying any attention to the bickering taking   
  
place at his side.   
  
"Harry." Ron said quietly, trying to get his best friends attention without alerting the attention of Snape. No answer. "Harry?" he said again, a little louder. Still, no answer. "Harry!" Ron had to keep himself from yelling, nearly causing the entire class plus the Potions Master to look up to their ledge in the room. Harry jumped at the loud sound of his name, and looked about himself. It seemed as though everyone's eyes were on him. Including the professors. He swallowed.  
  
"What Ron? What do you want?" he asked, a little more harsh than he intended. Ron looked at him for a second or two, and then shaking his head, muttered "Nevermind." Then he to bent his head and began to measure out his ingredients. Harry watched the two for such a time that he heard "Potter" from the front of the room. He turned his head to find two dark eyes piercing into his green ones.   
  
"Why are you not working?" Snape asked. 'Think quick, Harry. Why aren't you working? Why?!' he thought to himself, running down a list of possible answers. Finally, he found one that seemed to work. "Because I'm stupid." What?! "I mean.. uhm.." he fought to cover his own slip-up, but it seemed to be a losing battle. Closing his eyes, he heard tidbits of laughter fluttering around the room.   
  
"Not that I'm disagreeing with you, Mr. Potter, but get to work." Snape interjected smoothly. Harry made some kind of weird noise in his throat, and nodded. 'What's wrong with you, Potter? he thought to himself. And then another thought, 'Why does my inner   
  
voice sound like Malfoy?' Shaking his head, he pulled out the ingredients listed on the board and began his work. 'A sprig of Marjoram, a   
  
few grams each of Stonecrop and Angelica, a few drops of the essence of Lilly of the Valley...' his mind prattled on, trying to keep him   
  
on task and not on the topic of a certain Potions Master.   
  
---  
  
After two hours of sweating, cursing and lost points, Potions was over with barely a confrontation. Of course, Neville nearly   
  
caused a nuclear meltdown when his bright orange and bubbling potion (it was supposed to be a light, periwinkle colour) started   
  
smelling of something foully akin to roadkill. And of course, Hermione lost the Gryffindor's 10 points for trying to assist Neville. While   
  
Snape did sport an insultingly well-thought rhetoric for the fiasco, he delivered not nearly as scathing as one would have assumed. In   
  
fact, he seemed to be on verge of just letting it slide and falling asleep on his desk top. But of course, our dear Potions Master wouldn't   
  
dare put a tarnish on his outstanding reputation, and took points all the same.   
  
When class was nearing a close, Severs announced that the vials selected for the Hospital Ward shall receive extra points. Any potions that were so terribly constructed that they could be used as rat poison ... well, let's just hope they don't make it into your   
  
evening pumpkin juice. And with that, class was dismissed. Severus watched the students place their concoctions on their usual shelf, and scramble out of his room. He doubted that they were eager to get to their next class so much as they were egear to get out of his class. For millionth time it seemed, he sighed deeply. Rubbing his temples, he sat down and was surprised to find Potter still at his working station. He watched with slight amusement as Potter looked around, seeming to search for something.   
  
"Lose something, Mr. Potter?" he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm, clearly letting Harry know that he was really saying "Why in the Hell are you still here?" Potter, noting the edge in the Potions Master's voice, exhaled sharply and looked up.   
  
"I seemed to have misplaced my quill. It doesn't seem to be anywhere around here so I guess I'm leaving..." with one more   
  
quick look, he picked up his book bag and headed out of the room, dropping his potion off on the way out the door. With yet another   
  
discontented look over the room, he raised his wand and pointed it towards the student potions. 'Accio potions' he muttered, and one   
  
by one, the vials made their way to his desk. Glaring at the bottles hard enough to make them shatter, he brought his grading   
  
parchment and began the grueling process of testing each and every one of his students "disasters".   
  
---  
  
"Damnit! I knew I forgot something!" Harry cursed, searching through his bag for his Transfigurations book. "Snapes already   
  
thinks I'm an idiot for losing my quill, but now I've got to go back there and..." he trailed off, muttering darkly to himself. Ron looked over   
  
Harry's shoulder, and sighed.   
  
"Mate, I'm going to warrant a guess here and say that he probably thought you were an idiot before you lost your quill." Harry, rolled his eyes, and muttered "Yeah, you're probably right." Raising his hand, he hoped McGonagall wouldn't hurt him too bad for   
  
his stupidity. 'What is it with you and being stupid today, Potter?' he thought to himself. 'Damn that Malfoy-ish inner voice of mine.'  
  
"Yes, Mr. Potter?" the Transfigurations teacher asked, noting Harry's hand in the air.   
  
"I'm sorry Professor, uhm... I think I left my Transfigurations book in the Potions classroom." McGonagall frowned at this. "Could I go and get it?" Harry could tell by the way Professor McGonagall was looking at him that she was not at all pleased.  
  
"Yes Mr. Potter, you may go and retrieve your book. But I highly suggest you remember it from now on. Leaving things in   
  
Professor Snape's classroom is hardly an intelligent decision, as I'm sure you well know." she stated bluntly. "Now go on." With that, Harry was nodding his thanks and heading out of the classroom, down once more into the cold dungeons.   
  
Not looking forward to the look on Snape's face as he entered his classroom once more, Harry slowed his pace to a brisk walk as he made his way towards the classroom. Allowing his mind to wander, he reflected back on Potions class earlier that day. Not   
  
only was he himself slightly spacey, but Snape didn't seem at all up to his usual sneering, greasy self. 'Maybe it's another one of those   
  
Mondays' he thought, chewing on his lower lip and nearly running himself into a stone wall. But then he began to think back to that one   
  
night ... it was only a few days ago, when he found the Potions Master seemingly deep in thought at the window. 'Maybe that had   
  
something to do with it.' he reasoned with himself. 'I mean, he did seem quite ... lost? Out of it?' he struggled to find the right words, but put it quickly out of mind as he came upon the door into the Potions room. 'Here goes nothing...'  
  
Knocking first, he quietly opened the door as to not surprise the old bat into a rage. "Uhm.. Professor, I seem to have left.. my... uhm... Professor?" Harry asked, coming upon quite a sight in the classroom. There was his dignified, sarcastic, lethal Potions Master ... asleep on his desk, like so many students. His desk was littered with potion vials, most of them a slight purplish colour. Harry approached the Potions Master as if he were coming upon a beast in the wild. As he came closer, he took note of the dark circles under his eyes, contrasting greatly to Snape's pale skin. He also noted that, when sleeping, Snape didn't seem nearly as agitated, or mean, or even remotely... Snape-ish. He just looked ... like a very pale, very sleepy, and very innocent man. Harry snorted at that. Snape? Innocent? Shaking his head, he thought of what to do in such a situation. Should he wake him up or let him sleep? After a fair amount of thought, he decided on the former but not until he got found his book.   
  
Heading over to where he usually sat in class, he found his book sitting on the floor by his chair. Picking it up, he shifted it over to hir right arm and made his way back to Snape's desk.  
  
"Professor ... Professor Snape?" Harry asked mildly, not wanting Snape to jump up and kill him. Not getting a response, he tried again. "Professor Snape...?" He tapped the man's shoulder, just enough to start some movement in the hunched over figure. Snape buried his face into his arms and attempted to go back to sleep, but his brain registered something quite out of the ordinary. He was not in his private rooms, but sitting as his desk in class. And Potter was standing next to him. 'What in the nine levels of Hell....?' he looked up, to see Potter standing over him, some form of mediocre concern etched in his features.  
  
"Potter, what are you-" he tried to mask a yawn, and succeeded somewhat. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I forgot my Transfigurations book, and I came back to get it. I saw you sleeping and..." he trailed off, not wanting to state the blatantly obvious. Snape, still bleary eyed and half asleep, nodded, not remembering to put his 'I Hate Potter' facade in place.   
  
"Well, if you've found your things then I suggest you get on to class. I don't want Minerva on my case about murdering you and what not." Harry stared. Did Snape just make a joke, albeit a dark one?   
  
"All right, Professor. Uhm... good-bye." Turning around, he headed for the door.   
  
"Thank you for waking me up." Barely reached his ears, but did such nonetheless. Harry stopped and looked over his shoulder. Did Snape just bloody -thank- him?   
  
"You're welcome." Harry said, just as faint, not even entirely sure if he actually heard it. Snape looked up at Harry, nodded once, and then turned his attention back to his parchment. Harry continued walking, and anyone who saw his face would have thought him in a state of mild shock.  
  
----  
  
Ending Note: I hope you people enjoyed that. My processor is whacked out, so I had to go in and manually insert paragraphs TWICE. Once while writing, and once after spell check. It was like some sort of sick and twist Compaq computer game. ::le sigh:: Anywho, please review. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't like and what you'd like to see in the future. If it works with what I'm writing, I'll seriously consider it. Thanks so much for reading.  
  
Cheers,  
  
- sarah 


	3. Chapter Two: Insomnia

Thank all of you beautiful people for the nice reviews!   
  
S. Malfoy - I've always thought Harry's voice should sound like the antithesis of himself which is, duh, Draco. I'm glad you liked it.  
  
OpenOnyxEyes - Oh, thanks so much! I was fearing that perhaps I was portraying Sev too lightly. I'm trying to accomplish him in a sort of weary, vulnerable fashion and it's good to here that I'm succeeding!  
  
HPSlashfan4evr - Yes, I am so tired of the "poor mistreated Potter" stories that I just had to write one with my dear angsty Sev ::pats Sev's head::   
  
Mookins - Ha! I told you! ::ahem:: I'm glad you think I'm sarcastic and amusing. That makes me smile ::smiles:: Anywho, I will try and write a bit more of Hermione if you like, although you might want to read my latest author's note :) And yes, I will be writing more of Sev's interactions with the rest of the teachers. Are you happy now?   
  
Author's Note: I'm sorry if I seem to be skipping around a lot, but I try to keep my focus on the main of the story, which is this little Sev and Harry thing I'm building up. To be quite honest, I can't stand writing about the Golden Trio and it irks me to do so. It's not that I'm trying to leave out details and what not, but that I'm so overly detailed sometimes ... that when I start going off about unimportant characters, it really takes away from the story. So... if you're one of those people who just absolutely adore reading about the Trio, then this write is not for you. I'm sorry. Go read one of those poor mistreated Harry drabbles and leave the rest of us to our dirty work. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter Two: Insomnia  
  
You're lying awake  
  
the room is different the walls dissolve  
  
replaced by sky  
  
horizon blackening twilight  
  
beckoning  
  
He was covered in sweat, yet shaking as though he were in the middle of a snow storm. His entire body ached, his head pounded and his breath came in short gasps. He trembled, bringing one hand up to cover his face and wipe away the moisture. Curling up on one side, he tried to take deeper breaths and clear his head. He was in his bed, in his room, in Hogwarts. He was not lying in the middle of a stone floor with multiple killing curses being thrown upon him, while innocents screamed in the background. He was not bleeding from the eyes in some dark corner while his mother's screaming voice pierced through his delicate eardrums. He was safe. He was alive.  
  
Wrapping his arms around his thin frame, he tried going back to sleep.   
  
Twenty minutes passed, and Severus found himself staring out the window, finding it impossible to fall asleep with some assistance.   
  
Sitting up, he blinked a few times, the moonlight pricking his night-adjusted eyes. Looking over to his left, he spotted a small vial sitting on his bedside table. The periwinkle coloured liquid inside the glass sparkled, luminescent in the moonlight, and Severus inwardly shuddered. He new what the potion would do to him with a sleeping aid. He knew the feeling of delirium, of floating on a cloud of controlled chaos. He sat, head to one side, staring at the bottle for quite some time before scooting across the bed and grabbing it off the table. Uncorking the vial, he brought it to his lips and a bittersweet aroma assaulted his senses. The natural coldness of the potion traveled down his throat, settling itself deep within his belly, almost as if it were a living creature merely taking it's time on a formulated attack.  
  
Severus, his hands shaking, placed the empty bottle back on the table. Empty. The potion itself was to be used in minuscule amounts, and here he'd gone and downed the whole damn thing. And then ... hearing a weird sort of ticking noise, he looked around to see what exactly was making the noise. Could it be a clock? No, certainly not. If it were, why hadn't he heard it before? Shaking his head, he pulled the covers back over his shaking frame and tried, if not to go to sleep, then to merely rest his weary body.  
  
- 7 hours later -  
  
He blinked wildly at the sudden assault of sunlight to his eyes, very much wanting to curl up in a hole somewhere and rot to death. Of course, this could not be the case and he made his way to the Great Hall, cursing and swearing under his breath.  
  
The potion last night ... it had done something to him. He knew it would ... he knew it would do something strange to him every time he had taken it before. But this time, everything seemed different. The lights seemed bright, the voices of the children seemed louder, the pounding is head seemed more painful ... his aches, his pains, his woes; everything seemed inexplicably more prominent. It's as if the effects of the potion didn't wear off, as they usually did.  
  
Walking through the throng of children was like Moses, parting the Sea. The children shrank back from him as if he were some vile sort of walking disease that was highly contagious and a mere breath would send you into a perilous fight between life and death. Not that it mattered much to Severus; the sooner he got to the table, the better. He didn't need a bunch of half-witted kids blocking his path, and clouding his mind with the incessant ramblings of teenage life. That was the last thing he needed.  
  
Seating himself down at the table, he immediately grabbed the pitcher of coffee, and pouring himself a large mug full, he realized the shake of his hands. Apparently, others had noticed as well for he noted that he was getting quite the queer sidelong glances from Professors Dumbledore and Lupin. He mentally shrugged them off, wanting to focus less on their annoying habit of prying into his life and more on just how in the Hell he was supposed to get through the day in the state that he was in.   
  
Taking a sip from his steaming mug, he thought of all the possible headaches that could happen today. First year potions: need I say more? Syltherin double potions with Gryffindor: bleeding hearts! Not only was he going to have to deal with dimwitted first years, but on top of that ... dim witted sixth years! 'Woo-fucking-hoo' he thought, swallowing the rest of his black coffee in three quick gulps. Bringing the mug down from his mouth, he noticed a twitch in his eye. Smirking a bit, he set the mug down carefully and proceeded to stare off into space as his eye twitched spasmodically. Call Severus what you will, but he was never one to pass up the   
  
opportunity to forget all necessary surroundings and focus on a good eye twitching. He often wished he was infonet of a mirror   
  
when this sort of thing happened, just to see if it was noticeable by anyone else. 'Perhaps if I transfigured the coffee mug into a mirror...' But alas, as soon as the thought came to his mind his eye stopped it's movement, and thus ending Severus's morning amusement.   
  
Looking around to see if anyone had caught his childish antics, he sighed as everyone was busily enraptured with each others conversations. He seemed to be sighing a great deal more these days. Sighs of regret, sorrow, restlessness ... but this was no   
  
time for philosophical thinking. The children began to clear out of the Hall, making their way to their first classes. The teachers began to do such as well, and Severus thought he'd better follow suit  
  
-----  
  
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath in. A deep breath out. And repeated. Opening his eyes, and balling his hands into fists, he continued his slow breathing, trying to get his ragging mind and rising temper under control. Surely the kids were getting exponentially stupider as the years progressed, for he didn't think that anyone could be more clumsy than Longbottom. But, alas, here was a whole room full of them! They never stopped their gibbering, they rarely ever did anything right ... and what's more, they seemed to be put on this giant ball of blue dirt called Earth solely to irritate the living Hell out of the Potions Master.   
  
Taking one more deep breath, he stood up and thereby silencing the entire class with one sharp glare. 'Keep your cool, Severus. We don't want to get thrown out of the school for the murder of an entire class, now do we?' his inner voice asked. Rolling his   
  
eyes, he began to speak in that deep, silky voice that has so single-handedly scared the new children out of their wits. 'Ha, what wits?'  
  
"I'm not going to tolerate anymore stupidity out of this class. If you know what you're doing in this assignment, than continue. If not, then please, leave my classroom. Now." And with that, he sat back down in his chair, staring straight ahead.   
  
The children, looking back and forth amongst themselves, saw this as a perfect opportunity to flee the menacing company of the Potions Master. Gathering up their school supplies, they cleaned up and left the class room in record time. Severus, still staring straight ahead, inwardly smiled with glee. 'Thank the gods, the little rats are leaving. I'll give them all a half-arsed grade, just forshowing up and leaving with such speed!'   
  
As the last student scurried out the door, and slamming it on their way out, Severus stood up and walked aimlessly about the room. What was he going to do for the next hour and a half before his next class? He could sleep ... ha, that wasn't feasible. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep in ages, so there was no use trying to do such during the day when he couldn't even enjoy it. 'I could clean'   
  
he thought, but then pulled a face. 'I must be getting old if I'm thinking of cleaning during my time off.' Sighing, he laid eyes on the   
  
jumble of potions jars from his 6th years classes. He had already graded them, and for the most part, everyone's turned out all right. So.. what was stopping him? Walking over to the counter, he uncorked one vial and brought it quickly to his lips. Placing it down quite   
  
carefully, and quite empty, he picked up a second and drank that as well. By the time he got to his third and forth bottle, he no longer   
  
cared where the empty bottles ended up so long as they were out of his way. Before he knew what had hit him, he had emptied every   
  
single vial. Shuddering and walking over to his desk, his last coherent thought was 'It could have used some sugar....'  
  
-----  
  
The first year children Severus had sent out of class meandered about the school, deciding what to do. One of the children who was elected "the Leader" suggested they go to their Commons and wait fot the next round of classes to start. Unanimously deciding that that was a good idea, they all made their way en masse to their common rooms.  
  
Turning a corner, the students in the front of the group nearly ran into the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.   
  
"What are all you children doing out of class?" he asked, not really angry but more curious than anything. None of the children answered, as they were still young and awestruck by the sheer atmosphere that surrounded the Headmaster. "Well?"  
  
"Please sir," a voice called out from the back, "Professor Snape sent us out of class. He was in an awfully foul mood this morning, more than usual! And ... he told us that if we didn't understand what we were to be doing in his class, then we should leave."   
  
The mass of children all nodded and muttered in agreement. Albus stood in place for a second, thinking. The, clapping his hands, he   
  
nodded.  
  
"All right then. You children move on to your dormitories, and stay there until your next class begins. I'm sure you won't mind the extra hour and half off from classes.... Now move along." With that, the kids all seemed to breath one unanimous sigh of relief as the bustled about, making their way past the Headmaster and on to their Commons. Albus, on the other hand, would be walking himself straight down to the dungeons to see just what had gotten the Potions Master so worked up.  
  
.  
  
-----  
  
Ending note: Alright kiddies, there you go. It wasn't my best work, but it was one of those necessasary chapters that you just have to get done before you move on with the story. Sort of like a "filler" except... well, I hope this was atleast a little better than just your average filler chapter. So... tell me what you think and REVIEW! ::ahem:: Now off to start on the next coming chapter. Hints: Albus confronts Severus, and so does Harry! Dun dun dun!  
  
cheers,  
  
- sarah 


	4. Chapter Three: Breathe

::ducks as things are thrown at her head:: I'm so damn sorry that it has taken me this long to update. My writers block was doing a complete rape and pillage of my mental file cabinet, and I was completely devoid of any motivation to write. But alas, I have returned. So .. enjoy. If this chapter seems a bit like I've been here before ... blame it on Mindless Self Indulgence and the Dresden Dolls!  
  
Silverthreads - I always thought Sevvy would have the most beautiful nervous breakdowns, so .... voila!  
  
Kayla Summers - You want it to be longer? Then you write it.  
  
Mookins - Writing video games? That actually does sound like fun ... I'd be working so hard to slip my brain-washing techniques into the game that I'd completely forget that it actually was a game and not some mindless plot to blow up the White House. But ahh ::giggles:: that's just me. I'm sorry for the cliffe ::winks:: I know, I'm an evil muther.  
  
Author's Note: I'm writing this chapter (or atleast, the beginning it) on five hours of sleep that preceeded 30 of non-sleep; you bitches better enjoy this. I'm imploring you ... please review. I have no idea what you people want out of me unless you tell me. I'm writing these damn chapters as long as I can without going into a bonafide obsessive-compulsive rampage. So please ... enjoy my pitiful excuse for a story and review to tell me how crappy it is. : )  
  
Chapter Three : Breathe  
  
Albus knocked teantively on the wooden door, three raps. No answer. He repeated the action, only this time a bit harder. Still ... no answer. Sighing and hardly looking forward to the confrontation of the Potions Master, he opened the door with the twist and push of a doorknob. Taking a few steps in without really looking around, he closed the door behind him and walked in the direction of the fron of the classroom. From the position of the entry way, he could not view the desk of the Potions Master. After his scant few steps, however, he did indeed notice the desk and oh, so much more. The floor from the wall to the desk and all about was littered with small glass vials, corks out and scattered around hapazardly. And there, amdist the chaos of glass, was the desk, currently supporting the frame of Professor Snape. From his trained eye, and obvious clues, Albus could plainly see that this was no mere resting of Severus. This was a self induced slumber, if you could call it that.   
  
Severus' hair was covering his face, head resting on arms attached to twitching hands. Sporadic gasps escaped his half open mouth, hardly causing his body to move with the miniscule rise and fall of his chest. His eyelids moved, hardly noticable, indicating that he must have been having somewhat of a dream. All of this Albus noticed, jaw dropped, wide eyed and truly scared for the first time ... in a long time.  
  
Snapping back to his sense, he did double time to make his way over to Severus, fearful of a million different things. What side effects would this potion have on him, especially on an over dose? What potion was it anyway? And why on earth would he have done such a thing? These questions, and a million others, fluttered through his mind as his brain went on Auto-Piloit.  
  
Gathering the man in his arms, and grimacing at the lack of weight, he strode over a door in the corner that he knew led to Severus' private quarters, which housed a fire place. Shifting the mans weight, or lack thereof, to one arm he opened the door in a hurry and bothered not to close it behind him. Striding towards the fireplace in the main room, he noticed how disordered things seemed to be about the room. Severus was, indeed, a most clean and orderly person, and one of his belongings being out of place would surely throw him into a cleaning frenzy. Albus breifly recalled a time when he'd come down to visit Severus during the Summer holidays, and saw the many with his hair pulled up in a bun and an apron on, looking very much like a psychotic matron-come-maid. So busy was he scrubbing and dusting everything in sight, he noticed not that were anyone else to pop in during the day, Severus' reputation would most deffinately be in jeopardy.  
  
Pushing these thoughts to the back of his mind, Albus freed his right hand once more to grab a pinch a Floo powder off of the fireplace mantel. Stepping in, he threw the powder down at his feet, and said as clearly as possible 'Hogwarts, Hopital Ward.' A slightly hazy feeling ensnared his mind for a moment or two, but soon after he was striding through the fireplace of Poppy's ward and making his way over to the dimmest, darkest corner of the hospital. He knew that placing Severus in a bed with full sunlight was a near death wish, even for Albus.  
  
Hands shaking, he laid Severus as gently as possible into the high hospital bed. Noticing that his breathing had become less and less frequent, and that the shaking of his hands had began to spread throughout his body, Albus called for Mme. Pomfrey in his most urgent of tones. 'Thank Merlin there are no students in the ward ...' Albus thought absently, wringing his hands as he anxiously awaited the arrival of the nurse.   
  
Poppy came in, curious eyed and worried at the tone of the Headmaster's voice. A sight to behold came upon her as she neared him and the figure on the bed, soon to discover that it was none other than Severus Snape. Jaw dropping and rendered temporarily speechless, she stopped dead in her tracks. Albus turned to face her, his expression grim. Poppy soon found her voice, her mind slowly clicking into Nurse-mode.  
  
"What ... how ... ?" She stuttered, moving to the side of the bed to gently poke and prod the man on the bed. Albus merely cast his eyes downward, and shook his head. His voice sounded vaguely disattached, and when he looked back up, Poppy noticed that the ever present twinkle in his eye was lost.  
  
"I noticed his class wandering down the hall, obviously not in their classroom and questioned them on such. They stated that Severus had send them out, so I went down to check on him ... and found him surrounded by empty potion vials, passed out on his desk." The Headmaster said all of this very fast, hoping that he would not have to repeat it once more. He'd seen Severus beaten and broken, battered and bruised, hundreds of times, what with his double-agent spying and all. And though the though of Severus inflicting pain upon himself had indeed crossed his mind many a good time, he never thought Severus would go through with something like this.  
  
"Do you have any idea what sort of potion it was that he took?" Poppy asked, gently removing Severus' heavy outer garment and trying to keep her voice even and calm. Albus shook his head as the nurse looked up, and he could see the wheels literally turning in her head for a cure.   
  
"I do know, however, that whatever he took, he took in abundance. There were ... so many bottles ..." he trailed off, not really seeing or hearing any longer. Severus wasn't just like a son to him, he was his son. Not biologically, of course, but he might as well have been. Seeing Severus in such a state floored the Headmaster into a state of sheer mental frenzy and panic, and he was more than certain Poppy could see that in his eyes. "Is there anything I could do to help?" He asked, wringing his hands even harder and swallowing down the panic in his voice.  
  
Poppy cast aside Severus' heavy outer robe, and chewed on her quivering lip thoughtfully. "Perhaps ... bring me one of those bottles from his classroom, and if need be, we can try and find a student that who was in the classroom while the potions were being brewed." She looked Albus directly in his eyes, searching for a sign that he understood what to do. Sighing deeply, Albus nodded once and headed off towards the fireplace to floo, once more, to the private quarters of Severus Snape.  
  
Poppy watched him go, letting a single tear fall down her cheek. She wasn't used to seeing the Headmaster in such a state of distress, and was certainly not used to seeing the most feared Professor in Hogwarts lying so vulnerable on her hospital bed. When Severus was in here, it was usually right after a Death Eater's meeting, and generallly he was swearing under his breath while Poppy doctored him and Albus drilled him for information. Always, though, coherent and strong, no matter how badly injured. Seeing him in such a state now, and of his own accord, was enought to make the nurse want to crawl in bed and cry the day away.   
  
Sniffling and straightning up, she continued to bustle about, doing everything she could in her power to make sure that Severus wasn't in too bad of shape when he awoke ... if he awoke.  
  
Ending note: I know that was total shit. And I'm sorry it was so short ... and again for it taking me forever to get this out. You can all tie me to a tree and beat me with a stick. I deserve it. I swear upon my collection of Cure CDs', though, that I will get to working on the next chapter as soon as freaking possible. Teaser: Finally we get Mr. Potter and Mr. Snape in the same room together .... oh my ... 


End file.
